Styrofoam Plates -
by Death Cab for Cutie
| There's a saltwater film on the jar of your ashes | |
| I threw them to sea, but a gust blew them backwards | |
| And the sting in my eyes that you then inflicted | |
| Was par for the course just as when you were living | |
| It's no stretch to say you were not quite a father | |
| But a donor of seeds to a poor single mother | |
| That would raise us alone, we never saw the money | |
| That went down your throat through the hole in your belly | |
| Thirteen years old in the suburbs of Denver | |
| Standing in line for Thanksgiving dinner | |
| At the Catholic church | |
| The servers wore crosses | |
| To shield from the sufferance plaguing the others | |
| Styrofoam plates, cafeteria tables | |
| Charity reeks of cheap wine and pity | |
| And I'm thinking of you | |
| I do every year when we count all our blessings | |
| And wonder what we're doing here | |
| You're a disgrace to the concept of family | |
| The priest won't divulge that fact in his homily | |
| And I'll stand up and scream if the mourning remain quiet | |
| You can deck out a lie in a suit but I won't buy it | |
| I won't join in the procession that's speaking their peace | |
| Using five-dollar words while praising his integrity | |
| And just because he's gone, it doesn't change the fact | |
| He was a bastard in life, thus a bastard in death, yeah |